A Day at the Laundromat
by bibliophileemily
Summary: Various circumstances put Dist and Grell in the same laundromat all fandom characters use. What happens when two characters so alike meet? Cracky slash, that's what. Rated M for a reason, but still tame enough for this site, so don't get your hopes up.


It was an ordinary day at the Laundromat; Sebastian lovingly removed Ciel's underwear from the dryer and moved to the ironing board. He set the iron to "1;" silk was _so_ delicate.

Across the aisle, Dist was ironing his trademark pink collar; Sebastian couldn't help overhearing his mutterings.

"Stupid Jade…my collar is _not_ feminine," he mumbled, "Jade wouldn't know feminine if it bit him on the—" He trailed off when he noticed Sebastian starting at him. Sebastian didn't say a word but merely returned to the task of ironing.

Within moments, he had finished and packed up his laundry. It had only taken him about ten minutes to iron all of Ciel's underwear; Dist stared blankly at the butler carrying the tall stack of folded knickers.

"Any butler who can't do this much isn't worth his salt," he quipped as he walked out the automatic doors of the laundromat and into the horse and carriage waiting for him.

Dist shrugged, unphased; he'd come to the laundromat in a giant robot, after all.

Before he could get back to his ironing, however, Grell came running into the laundromat, arms flailing despite the coat that was only halfway on his arms.

"Sebas-chan!" he shouted, frantically searching behind the dryers. "Where are you, my love?"

He flung himself toward the dryers, opening and closing the machines, constantly calling for his missing Sebastian.

Dist frowned; this person was proving very distracting. As Grell ran dangerously close, Dist had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at the intruder. This guy's behavior irked him already; who lacked that much self-respect to go around chasing other men with such blatant admiration?

After succeeding in knocking over four stacks of laundry baskets, Grell finally stopped his rampage and looked around; noticing Dist, he sauntered over and planted his elbows on the ironing board. But before Grell could say a word, his weight flipped the board, taking the ironing with it and causing Dist to accidentally burn his own hand in shock.

He screamed, causing Grell to back up, apologizing.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—"

"Watch what you're doing, you clumsy fool!" Dist screeched, clutching his burnt hand. "If you hadn't come in here blundering about like a love-sick schoolgirl, none of this mess would have happened!"

"But I _am_ a love-sick schoolgirl," Grell mumbled to himself.

"This is the irresponsibility of youth today," Dist continued. "When I was young…"

The automatic doors opened again, revealing the huge white hull of the land ship _Tartoros_ parked outside. Jade Curtiss walked in, went to the lone operating dryer, and began pulling out his laundry.

Dist stared, slack-jawed, the burn on his hand forgotten. Grell looked at Dist, then at Jade, and giggled.

"What a cutie!" he cried. "Such beautiful red eyes…red really is my favorite, you know."

Dist snapped out of his stupor and glared at Grell.

"What?" he growled. "Not even a minute ago, you were carrying on about that Sebastian, and now you've already moved on?"

"Oh, please, love," Grell scoffed. "I may be pledged to my Sebas-chan, but I'm not dead. A woman has her needs."

Dist watched, horrified, as Grell began slinking toward Jade, then bolted forward and flung himself on Grell's back.

"Get away from him!" he shouted as he tackled Grell to the ground.

"Oww!" Grell shrieked. "What is your problem? I just want to—"

"Shut up!" Dist hissed, clapping a hand over Grell's mouth and looking desperately toward Jade. Jade continued to ignore the pair; his laundry collected and folded, he made his way back to the doors and left.

Dist let go of Grell and slumped on the floor, overwhelmed with relief and regret. He hadn't seen Jade in weeks; if that idiot wasn't around, he could have…

"Oh…" Grell said, realizing, "You _like_ him, don't you?"

"None of your business!" Dist snapped. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Oh, you do!" Grell said, jumping and clapping his hands. "That's why you were so angry with me! Why, how quaint! You tried to keep me away from your lo—"

"Be silent!" Dist shouted, his face flushing. "I will not stand for these insults!"

Grell froze. Then he leaned forward and stared through his glasses straight through Dist's.

"You have very pretty eyes, you know," he said, smirking.

Dist gasped and backed up.

"He's mad! Stark raving mad!" he stammered.

"How dare you!" Grell pouted. "I resent being referred to as male." He smiled sensuously, showing his pointed teeth. "But for you, anything you please…"

Dist ran for the automatic doors, but Grell chased him, grabbed him by the arm, and slammed him into the washing machines.

"Don't run away, dearie; it's been much too long for you, I can tell."

"How dare you assume—" Dist's shout was cut off by Grell forcefully kissing him. Several seconds passed, but when Grell tried to use tongue, Dist bit the other's lip rather hard.

"Oh, you naughty boy!" Grell said, licking his sore lip. "Why can't you just give in? Lord knows I do."

Dist bit his own lip.

"I'm not interested."

"How noble, trying to wait for one man and one man only?" Grell said, pretending to wipe away a tear from under his glasses. "What's the point in that? He didn't look your way once!"

With a roar of frustration, Dist grabbed Grell by the hair and pulled his head back, prompting a squeal of mixed pain and pleasure.

"What would you know about waiting?"

Grell smiled.

"Absolutely nothing." He kicked his foot hard against Dist's leg, tripping him; flipping himself over, Grell pushed Dist onto the soapy floor and straddled him.

"I can't believe that you aren't even willing to try," Grell sighed. "Maybe I'll just have to convince you."

He leaned forward again, planting his lips squarely on Dist's neck, causing him to struggle violently.

"This is inhumane!" he said through clenched teeth.

"Well, I should probably tell you now," Grell said nonchalantly as he came up for air, "but I'm actually a shinigami, so…"

Dist stopped struggling. "That's what they call me," he murmured. "Shinigami Dist, the name they gave me…"

He met Grell's eyes with a new determination.

"Fuck Jade," he said, throwing back his head. "I don't even care; do what you want with me."

"Oh, yes!" Grell exclaimed.

Immediately, Grell pushed Dist's shirt open, loosening the tie and pulling it up and over his head. The sudden chill made Dist uncomfortable, then he yelped as Grell shoved a hand down his pants.

"Do you really intend to take things that far?"

Grell just smiled, and Dist's eyes widened.

"N-not here, not where someone could see."

Grell paid no attention and yanked off his pants anyway, then bent over and removed Dist's underwear with his teeth.

Dist blushed and covered his face with his hands until he suddenly felt Grell's hands and tongue all over the most intimate parts of his anatomy.

Well, he forgot about his modesty then and started shrieking bloody murder.

"Stop! What are you _doing_, you madman?" he yelled. "Stop it, stop it, stop—oh! D-don't stop! Whatever you do, don't _stop_!"

Dist was very red in the face when Grell finally came up for air and delicately wiped his mouth on a handkerchief.

"Why did you stop?" Dist gasped.

Grell didn't say anything but gazed longingly at the ironing boards against the wall.

In a fury, Dist ran to set up the board; it kept collapsing, which made him even more frustrated. Grell busily set about removing as much of his clothing as possible. The ironing board finally stood up, and Grell moved to lay Dist on it, but instead, Dist grabbed Grell by the wrists and bent him over the board.

"Oh, no, you don't," he muttered as he pinned the now squealing redhead underneath him. "You started it, but I'm going to finish this!"

Grell's eyes lit up. "Go right ahead!"

It was rather unfortunate that the ironing board Dist had set up happened to be very squeaky. Not that they could hear it; Grell and Dist seemed to be in a contest to see who could make the most noise in this endeavor.

Between thrusts, Dist managed to gasp out, "For a death god, you sure have a lot of experience with the living."

"My job is in death," Grell panted, "but my specialty is in the little death."

They kept going at it; now, it was a contest of who would give in first. The room had grown quieter; all either of them could hear were their own gasps and cries, and that damn ironing board.

Grell let out one sensuous moan that almost matched pitch with the squeak of the board and bucked his hips hard against Dist. Without thinking, Dist responded in kind, and the latch on the ironing board gave out.

They crashed spectacularly, limbs tangled and bodies even closer than before.

Dist squeezed his eyes shut, too embarrassed to even look at Grell. Grell was about to comment when he looked over past Dist.

"Probably a good thing you shut your eyes," Grell said, staring at the shadow now cast over their bodies. "Someone forgot his underwear."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: This was written as a bit of a dare from my friends. I asked for a pairing and a kink: one told me half the pairing had to be from _Kuroshitsuji_, the other half was my choice, and the other friend gave me the kink: on the ironing board. I hope that I fulfilled what they were expecting; I'm rather proud of it myself.


End file.
